


What Does the Duck Say?

by Frostbearer



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Crack, Explicit Language, Gen, pop culture references, the author has a funny sense of humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 17:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20261917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frostbearer/pseuds/Frostbearer
Summary: What can you do with a rubber duck? The answer, Dante found out, was a lot.Crackfic.





	What Does the Duck Say?

**Author's Note:**

> To Faltered, Min and Darka who brought this up in the Spardacest server chat.  
Drabbled and unbeta:ed.

Dante had a surprising knowledge of pop-culture references, much to Nero’s eternal chagrin. Every now and then the Legendary Devil Hunter would throw something so non sequitur that it could take him days to realise that  _ wait,  _ how the hell was he aware of this internet thing which popped up  _ last week _ ? This did not mean that Dante didn’t get them mixed up. Another cringe-worthy occurrence and  _ somehow _ Nero failed to notice that his uncle always had a sly look in his eyes when such things happened. As things were Vergil, thankfully, seemed oblivious to everything that the 21st century had produced, still struggling to understand how a cell phone worked. In a sense it was equally endearing as frustrating to watch him try to learn how to use some functions. At times Nero noticed that Dante seemed to derive just as much pleasure from watching Vergil struggle as he did when it came to their semi-daily sparring sessions before mentally waving it away as that Dante had a funny sense of humour. Twins. Pah.

As it were they were over at the shop debating a change in how they did business since Nico was incapable of driving after almost having lost her leg in an  _ incident _ when creating new weapons. Her waved away protests of that she was fine and “I sure as heck can wal--- oww oww oww  _ fine _ ” when Nero merely nudged her calf had been duly ignored.

“Why don’t you drive the van, then?” Dante commented over a slice of pizza.

“You expect me to drive and shoot things at the same time?”

“Sure. Takes a bit of practice but it’s not rocket science.”

Considering how difficult it was to shoot a gun and hit a target some hundred feet away let alone one that was moving Nero highly doubted that it was easy, but he opted for not calling him out on it. Instead he shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe for you, but no can do. I don’t know how to drive.”

The legendary hunter jerked his head back as if Nero had told him red was the ugliest colour in the world. “What do you mean you can’t drive? Everyone knows how to drive, even  _ Vergil  _ does.” Jutting a thumb over to indicate the man currently sat on the couch, reading a book titled ‘Technology - the Latest Advances.’ The man in question didn’t as much as look up from his choice of literature yet a slight purse of lips indicated he was aware of what was being discussed.

“I grew up on an island. Not many cars there.” Dante seemed to mentally concede that he had a point there.

“Still you’ve been with Nico for how long now?”

Nero almost visibly cringed. “...You’ve seen Nico drive. Do you honestly expect me to trust her as a teacher?”

“Good point. Okay. That’s it.” Clapping a shoulder on Nero’s shoulder. “I’m teaching you how to drive.”

For a moment Nero felt his life flash by on the inside of his retina. Was this how he would die?  _ Oh shit _ .

* * *

Nero tried his best to wheedle his way out of it. He claimed there were so many other ways in which he could get through missions, all which fell on deaf ears as the red-clad hunter picked up a set of keys from the depths of the desk, calling out a cheerful “don’t blow up the world while we’re gone” to Vergil, words ignored save for a summoned sword lodging itself in the wall next to Dante’s head before the younger man found himself dragged outside and to an almost unused parking-space a couple blocks away. Nero recognised the bikes parked as the ones Trish and Dante used on occasion. The sole car however wasn’t something he had expected, dragging his feet as the older hunter went to unlock it.

“This is the Beast.” A gloved hand reached out to pat at an old red convertible with a certain degree of fondness Nero hadn’t expected. Dante seemed oblivious to that there were old claw marks in the paint or the stains of rust on it.

“You named your car?” The sheer level of disbelief in his voice was hard to mistake.

“Look. When you’ve got a car which has survived decades of demon attacks it deserves an epithet.” Nero didn’t have a proper comeback to that. “Now get in.”

As far as teaching went Dante wasn’t a half bad teacher. Despite trepidation over that he’d somehow make them crash into the nearest wall and a high dose of suspicion their first lesson went over well enough. That tension slowly eased as he was introduced to how a car worked, not that he hadn’t known most of it already by observing Nico’s reckless driving. “I’m not a kid. I do know how a car works.”

The legendary hunter shot him an unimpressed look yet his tone remained amused. “Of course you do. So if I tell you to change gears from fifth to first gear you’ll do it without hesitation, right?”

Nero wasn’t sure on what to answer with that. A gruff “shut up,” his only reply, a faint flush on his face.

* * *

They proceeded with instructions for another thirty odd minutes before Dante even allowed him to start the car, Nero not at all feeling butterflies running through him while the older hunter passed him instructions. When the engine stalled and puttered to a stop from when Nero had lifted his foot just a bit too high he most certainly did not give a yip, terrified he had broken the damned thing. Dante just calmly told him to do it again but to this time put it in one of the gears, and as flustered as he was over this whole thing Nero did as told. Still this didn’t by any means indicate that Nero had been left off the hook.

“C’mon, kid. The gear-stick isn’t your dick. You hold on to it from above and around the knob.” The shit-eating tone gave him away despite the serious look on his face, Nero elbowing the hunter sharply. Not for the first time wishing that he could just get anyone else to teach him how to drive.

* * *

Nero was a surprisingly fast study, and after a few days Dante allowed him to drive for longer stretches than just around the parking lot. As days turned into weeks he slowly grew more confident and Dante became more lax as he sat in the passenger seat, only occasionally giving comments on feedback. That’s why when Dante mentioned that Nero needed to learn how to park properly he didn’t notice the devious glint in Dante’s eyes.

It wasn’t until they neared where the car was parked and he saw the row of those large ugly yellow plastic ducks with their mouths gaping open with painstaking care taped to the bumper that he stopped dead in his tracks. “What… are  _ those _ ?”

Dante somehow managed to convey perfect innocence, looking up from his phone with a confused hum before checking the car. “Oh, those are just your parking indicators. You back up nice and slow, and if you hear the chorus of screaming chickens then, well, you've definitely hit something.”

For a moment Nero debated if it was worth punching Dante in the face, eventually concluding that it probably wasn’t. Probably.

When he some thirty minutes later heard the squeaking of rubber chickens Nero slammed the brakes, face flaming red. Dante would never let him live this down.

* * *

A deafening sound as if ten thousand tone-deaf Tibetan monks called forth some abomination from the Underworld broke the peaceful air of Fortuna one early Sunday morning several months later. 

Kyrie flew up from her chair from where she had been drinking her morning tea, running for the phone to call the police. Nico, having sat next to her threw the windows open, hanging out to get a look at what was going on. Screaming and wailing so loud that it was as if the souls of the damned called from the depths of hell came flooding into the kitchen, prompting her to just as quick slam them shut.

Nero toppled out of bed, smacking his head into the wall and howling with pain, still already reaching for Red Queen and Blue Rose to in record speed get out of the door. Couldn’t demons at least have the decency to give him the time to sleep in?

Where were they? It sounded as if it came from over by the van. _The van. _

“Holy shit.”

Rubber ducks. Not the tiny cute ones but those long squishy ones. Taped and glued to every surface of the van. The headlights, bumper, windscreen, across the neon sign. Every inch of it covered by bright yellow and red plastic howling out this dreadful noise.

After several minutes of taking in the sheer monstrosity of screaming rubber ducks overflowing the van, shit was that ducks in the freaking  _ wheelhouse? _ Nero found himself shaking his head to himself. Had he had his senses trained he probably would have been able to pick up the mad cackling from a few rooftops over where Dante sat bent over with laughter, a so far untouched bowl of popcorn next to him.

Nico had limped out to stand beside him, one fist raised to her mouth, a frown on her face. This van was her baby. Her everything, even as she let Nero drive it while she was temporarily incapacitated. Even after knowing her for this long Nero couldn’t tell what was on the mad Artisan of Arms’ mind. 

“Where did all the ducks come from?” The voice so quiet and the statement so innocent that the younger hunter momentarily felt some of that ire at having been so rudely awakened melting away, the diminutive form of Kyrie appearing on his left.

“Can’t tell you that, but I can tell you it musta taken helluva long time to set up,” the dark-haired woman commented, hobbling over to poke one of the chickens which squawked piteously.

So wide-awake and stunned was Nero that he somehow missed the large banner with a certain halfbreed idiot’s unmistakeable scrawl declaring “Congratulations on getting your license, kid” until Nico read them out loud.

The second those words truly registered was when there was a pulse of demonic energy bursting from the partial devil, fists clenching sharply. Screw all of that about keeping family alive. He was a dead man.

  
“ ** _DANTE_ ** !”

**Author's Note:**

> I HAVE NO REGRETS. I sat and laughed myself through writing this.


End file.
